


Olivebranch

by Quintus



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Bounty Hunting, Crime, Detective, Gen, Sleepaway, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintus/pseuds/Quintus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Houndour travels to the desert frontier seeking a decent living. A turn of events leads him to join the Guild, and he winds up on the trail of a pair of criminals that takes him across the region.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Part of InsomniacOvrlrd's Sleepaway universe. Check out the comic that inspired this, [here](http://www.furaffinity.net/view/13116560/).

During ancient history my great grandparents had been part of the houndour packs that roamed the canyon now called Eastgate. Explorers and missionaries entered the canyon in service of the Guild, and they built the city of Eastgate and surrounding settlements, and gave the natives a choice: join their civilization or be removed. Most of us went to live in the city, and the children were separated from the adults and placed in boarding schools. Once they graduated, they were free to live and work as naturalized citizens; but since the general public distrusted them, they found it hard to find any but the most menial work, and they wound up restricted to the cheapest housing in the poorest districts of the city.

Natural prejudices resurfaced, and the poor districts were carved up among tribal lines. Gangs of houndour picked fights with poochyena, who had been our enemies in the canyon before. I fell into the gangs and got into my share of scraps. We were kids with nothing to look forward to, confused and distraught as to what our lives were for, trying to recreate a sense of community and identity in the only way we knew how.

That's how I lived, anyway, until one of my friends was beaten so bad we couldn't recognize him. I didn't hear about it until after his friends had taken him to the surgeon: he was heading to the market to pick up some carrots or something for his family when he was ambushed. He lived, but he was disfigured and scarred all over his body, and some of his bones healed in crooked positions. I realized the bed of nails I was lying on and left my home to try for a decent living somewhere else. I headed north, to Ironside, then to the capital city Prosperity, but I wasn't satisfied until I reached the desert frontier, where the trading city of Sandstone provided building material and mineral wealth for all the nation.

The city was nestled into the spot where the C-shaped lake drained into the river, the only spot for miles where green stuff grew. A ring of mountains encircled the region, and along them were chains of settlements where miners turned the mountain stone into building blocks. A river snaked through a valley from Prosperity to Sandstone, about a five day walk.I only made it two before I was joined by another group of travelers.

They approached me casually, walking the road as if we were only incidentally making the trip at the same time. There were four of them, an odd assortment of a golduck, mightyena, lucario and xatu. They caught up with me at just above my walking speed and got on all sides of me, the golduck and mightyena in front and the lucario and xatu behind. Then, still looking forward, the golduck started talking.

“Always pleasant to meet a friend on this road,” he said. “What brings you onto the hot sand, pup? Heading to Sandstone?”

I tentatively responded, “Yeah.”

“Do you live there, or are you going to see the sights?”

Something about the mightyena caught my attention. His scent was definitely of the desert, but I got a vague sense of something familiar, a trace of Eastgate. I couldn't place him though—even if I had seen him in Eastgate, he could have been a poochyena back then for all I knew.

“I don't live there at the moment,” I said, “but I'm headed there now, and I intend to build a life for myself when I get there.”

“So you're a pilgrim, like so many of us. I hear you. Sandstone is booming; people are striking it rich out in the wildlands, or finding work in all sorts of other ways. A lot of people left their old lives behind, or moved their whole families in order to be here. I used to be wild myself. There's a slice of prosperity for everyone here, no shortage of opportunities.”

The mightyena noticed me staring at him and bared teeth. I pointed my eyes forward.

“People seize prosperity in all sorts of ways,” the golduck continued. “How about you? What did you bring to get yourself started?”

I noticed with some discomfort how intently the lucario and xatu were watching me.

“These are all my possessions in the world,” I said.

“Are you carrying it all in those shoulder bags? Why don't you put them on the ground, so we can take a look?”

I stopped, and they all stopped with me. I looked around to each of them. They stood silent. I gripped the strap of my shoulder bags in my teeth, placed them on the ground and stepped back. The golduck gave a sign to the lucario, who knelt down and opened one.

“This one's just food. Nothing but nuts and crackers.” He crushed some crackers in his paw and threw the pieces into the sand. The mightyena made a scowl of disgust. The lucario left the bag open on the ground and went for the other one.

“Here we go,” he said. He showed it around so the others could see the coins inside.

“I almost feel like we're doing you a favor,” said the golduck. “This wouldn't have lasted three days in the city, so now you can spare yourself the trouble and go back to mommy and daddy.”

The lucario scooped all the coins into his own pouch and stood up. The group broke off.

“Sorry about this, honest,” the golduck went on. “We seize prosperity in all sorts of ways.”

The mightyena headbutt me in the side as hard as he could. I tumbled over with the wind knocked out of me and lay in the sand for a minute, gasping for air. By the time I collected myself and stood up, they had all disappeared.

I picked up my food bag off the ground. Nuts and crackers littered the sand, and some sand had found its way in the bag, but nonetheless I put it back on my shoulders along with the empty money bag.

That money had been all I had to get by in the city. I had hoped it would buy me food and lodging for at least a few nights, long enough to find a job of some sort, but now I was set to arrive broke and very hungry. I changed course and headed for the southern mountain settlements, which were closer.

Every couple of villages had a Guild station with an officer in charge. The only distinguishing feature of the wooden building, lined up along the street with so many others, was its name painted above its door. It was meant to be a combined office, treasury and living quarters for teams operating in the area, but it was so small that only one team could use it permanently at a time.

The officer was a swampert, who handled administrative duties and bookkeeping from a desk in the main room. He saw me come in, but gestured for me to wait a moment while he finished up whatever he was doing. One end of the room was lined with holding cells, all of them housing one wretched captive awaiting due process of law. I made eye contact with a raggedy growlithe who might have blasted his way out of his cell, but seemed disinterested in anything but lying on the floor and watching me. I guess that swampert sufficiently put the fear in them.

On the wall across from them was the bulletin board where the jobs the teams might undertake were posted. There were all kinds of jobs there, but a significant number were pictures of people's faces, headed with the bolded word, “wanted.” _Wanted, dead or alive._ _Sarin, weezing_ _._ _For_ _robbery and assault_ _._ _Thirty five silver_ _pieces_ _…_

The swampert said, “Is there something I can help you with?

“Yes, sir. I was traveling up the river to the city when I was confronted by a group of four and robbed. The one who seemed to be the leader was a golduck, the others were a mightyena, a lucario and a xatu. They took all my money and destroyed a good portion of my food.”

“What's the amount that was stolen?”

“Sixty bronze pieces, sir.”

He returned to his papers. “It sounds like it was the Deadeye Gang that got you. They ambush people on the roads and mountains. Sometimes they kill them. At least one of our teams is tracking them right now, and as soon as we find them we'll return what they stole to its owners.”

“How long have you been tracking them?”

“There's a lot of ground to cover when it comes to finding people. A lot of criminals have hideouts in the desert or mountains. It might take a bit more time, but we _will_ find them, sooner or later.”

“Have you tried scent-tracking? I bet they leave some scent behind at their little crime scenes.”

“Of course we've tried it, but a scent only lasts so long before those bits of skin and fur and such get swept away by the wind or buried in the sand. By the time we get there, there's generally nothing left to smell but wood and bones.”

“Sir, the money they stole was all the money I had. I need it to be returned as soon as possible.”

“We're doing all we can. Thank you for reporting this crime. If you've no more to add, you may go now.”

I left the station and walked the streets for a while, thinking about my options. The mightyena had definitely smelled of Eastgate. His scent lingered in my nostrils, and a realization hit me that if I could pick it up again at the spot where they got me, there was no reason I couldn't follow it all the way to their hideout. Back in the canyon I had tracked scents as old as three days, looking for lost friends or hiding enemies, and if I found the Deadeye Gang now, I could not only get my money back but collect the reward from the Guild, who would doubtless be grateful.

By then it was nearly evening, but I took my remaining supplies and set out. I walked along the river until I found the spilled nuts in the sand. I sniffed around—the scent was faint, but I found it. I followed the trail west until the sun had completely set, then I took shelter beneath the branches of an acacia tree and slept. The next day I kept on the trail until it crossed into the mountains.

It was another two days of travel over the rocks, and I was getting tired and hungry, crunching on grains of sand as I stretched out the last of my food. On the evening of the fourth day I came upon a clearing, and I stopped, lowered myself to the rocks and peered over carefully. There was a shack built against the face of a cliff, and the mightyena and lucario were sitting outside enjoying some downtime.

I felt a tap on the back of my shoulder. I nearly jumped.

A smeargle lay prone next to me, pressing a paw to her mouth in a gesture to keep quiet. She whispered, “What's your take on this?”

Bewildered, I gave no answer. That seemed well enough, as she kept her eyes pointed to the clearing below.

“Flint and Lapis. Holly and Wave are probably inside, but it's poor form to expose oneself to surprises. I'll go in first and make a bit of commotion, and we'll see if we can't draw all four of them into the open. You stay here and keep an eye out, and when you see an opportune moment, and not before, you attack. Understood?”

The only thing I could think to do was nod.

She leapt over the rocks and sprinted toward the camp. When the two outside saw her, they jumped from their seats and formed a defensive line. She dropped to all fours in front of them, puffing and wheezing.

“Get yourselves ready for battle as quick as you can,” she said. “There's a Guild team on my tail.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” said the lucario.

“I'm with the Wroughtiron Crew. You're Holly's team, right? We were hiding out not too far from here when the Guild raided our camp. I managed to get away, but one team chased me. I ran nearly five miles without stopping.”

The two glanced at each other, and the lucario waved towards to shack. The golduck and xatu came out.

“Are you Holly?” said the smeargle. “Our leader, Slag, said he knew you, and he told us about this hideout here. Said we could retreat here if ever we—”

“Shut up,” said the golduck. “What's this about a Guild team?”

“A Guild team chased me here, sir.”

“The Guild wiped out your camp, and you brought them here so they can take us down with you. I've never heard of the Wroughtiron Crew, and I can't think of a reason not to kill you now.”

“Slag said he was a friend of yours. He's a golduck like yourself. Ask that fellow, he knows.”

She pointed to the mightyena, and the other three turned their gazes toward him.

“I ran with the Wroughtirons on a few jobs,” the mightyena told his companions. “They never mentioned knowing you or having a hideout anywhere near here, and they didn't have a smeargle with them either.”

“Right,” said the golduck. “Frankly I don't give a shit. I don't know the Wroughtirons, I don't run with them, and there's no way I'm taking the fall for them. We'll fight off this Guild team, but as far as I'm concerned, you're—”

The mightyena suddenly shouted, “They're here!”

I cursed. I had tried to approach unseen using the rocks for cover, but he had caught a glimpse or a scent of me, and he watched the ridge intently until he spotted me. I bolted toward him with embers blazing from my mouth. I either hit him or forced him to jump back, and the lucario, who was nearest, launched an aura sphere which blew me off my feet.

A flash of light appeared, so bright that we all were forced to shield our eyes. It came from behind the golduck. It was an electric shock, and when it was over, the golduck fell to the ground.

The smeargle waved a paw toward the lucario, and a razor wind followed and cut his chest open. The mightyena had just time to turn around before she cut his neck with another blow. The xatu took to the sky in attempt to escape, but with a third attack, she sent a gust of wind that brought him crashing to the ground.

From where I lay it looked like this smeargle had simply commanded four hardened criminals to lay down dead. I didn't dare get up off the ground.

She walked up to me and said, “I hid my cart among some rocks nearby. If you wouldn't mind staying with them for a moment, I'll retrieve it.”

She walked off, and as promised, she returned a few minutes later with a four-wheeled cart, the sort with a canvas cover so it could be slept in. She pulled it with telekinesis. Once she got the cart into the clearing, she pulled out a length of rope and tied the bodies together in a line, then tied them to the cart so when she pulled it they would drag along the ground like a snake. She took some of the Deadeyes' own firewood and built a fire in their fire pit, then brought out some carrots and asparagus, with a frying pan to roast them.

I decided it was time for answers. “Who are you?” I said.

“I'm Willow,” she said. “Yourself?”

“Olive.”

“Well, Olive, I have to thank you for your help tonight. You've probably already guessed that I'm a Guild agent, the one charged with tracking these four criminals. I chased them for quite a while, but I was unable to find their hideout until you set your impressive nose to it.”

She pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. It was the Deadeyes' handbill.

 _Wanted, dead or alive. The Deadeye Gang. For repeated robbery and murder._ _Ten gold_ _pieces for Holly, golduck._ _Two gold_ _pieces for each of his subordinates: Flint, mightyena; Lapis, lucario; and Wave, xatu._

“You followed me?” I said.

“I did. I caught sight of you following a scent trail and decided to see what had you so determined. Now that I've explained myself, why don't you tell me why you were tracking dangerous criminals, and what you planned to do once you found them?”

“The Deadeyes robbed me along the river and took all my money. I reported it at the nearest Guild station, but I needed that money back yesterday, so I decided to find them myself. I thought that if I caught them, I could collect the reward on top of everything.”

“So you caught scent of at least one of them during the robbery?”

“Yes.”

“It's impressive that you were able to follow a scent for so long across the desert. Not all of the trackers in the Guild could do the same. I have to tell you, though, that those rewards are posted for Guild agents only, and only Guild agents have the authority to use force against criminals. Had you caught them, you would probably have been tried for murder by the Guild and executed.”

I sheepishly said, “I'm sorry.”

“I'll let it slide,” she said with a smile.

“Can I ask you what those moves you used were?”

“Oh, those? Shock wave, vacuum wave, ominous wind. Some techniques I picked up by observing former associates.”

“So you have a team?”

“Technically I am part of a team, it's just that presently Team Brushcut has a membership of one. The story of how it came to be that way is a long and no doubt tedious one.”

She scooped the vegetables onto plates with a wooden spoon, then set one plate on the ground in front of each of us.

“Where are you headed after this?” she said.

“I don't know. I guess I'll go to the city and start looking for a job.”

“Sandstone is a fine place to make a living. Do you have any idea what you're going to do?”

“I figured I'd go work in a mine or something, or find whatever else needs doing.”

“Have you considered joining the Guild? You've got some talent, which I believe can be developed into skills we need. I'd love to be the one to have you on my team.”

I was blindsided. Joining the Guild had never crossed my mind, and now that the opportunity was in front of me, thoughts of that life flashed through my head all at once. When I went to track the Deadeyes, it was to recover my stolen money, but there had also been a thrill that drew me to do it.

I didn't know her, and I didn't know what I was getting into by joining up with her, but I knew that it didn't suit me to do things cautiously. I summoned my courage and said, “I'll do it.”

“Wonderful,” she said with a smile.

With Willow at my side, I was sworn in as a member of Team Olivebranch. That was how I became a legal representative and servant of the Guild of Sandstone.


	2. Chapter 2

We dragged the five bodies of the Crag Crew, Willow pulling the cart while I walked beside, roughly ten miles from the spot where we ambushed them to the nearest Guild station. The officer, a medicham who had given us the job a few weeks before, greeted us.

“Willow, Olive,” he said, nodding as we approached. He saw the bodies dragging behind the cart and added, “Is that them?”

Willow smiled.

“Good work, really good work you two. Why don't you come have a cold drink? Leave the fellows outside for now.”

We entered, and Willow sat down at the table while I went to the board to peruse the jobs. The officer got some berry juice from the icebox, then our money from a chest near the back of the room, and joined her. Altogether the bodies were worth twenty gold pieces, one of the more lucrative jobs we had done in the three months since we started working together. The two chatted for a bit about little things, what had gone on in town while we were out on the job. I hadn't gotten to know him, but he and Willow seemed to be friendly enough.

Eventually he got to the point he had always been heading toward.

“You two have heard about the Pawpad case, right?”

The Pawpad brothers were a pair of raichu, Gem and Jewel, who ran a bar in one of the poorer parts of the city. The Guild generally left those areas alone unless they got a high number of reports of disturbances, at which point one or a few teams would go out to quietly inspect the streets and bust whatever crime they happened to find. It was during one of those investigations, at around 3 a.m. when the bars were closed, that agents stationed on a nearby street corner noticed a drunk person stumble into an innocuous-looking door on the back of the Pawpads' building. They followed him in to find an illegal gambling den run by the brothers, and on a later night, they organized a party and raided it.

The brothers fought back, wounding two agents and paralyzing a third before escaping through a hidden exit. A number of gamblers were also arrested. A bounty of twenty four gold pieces was placed on each brother's head, and a city-wide search followed. When that turned up nothing, several teams attempted to hunt them outside the city, using articles from their residence at the bar to track their scent. But it was as if they had transformed into sand. There wasn't a trace of them to be seen or smelled anywhere.

“I've heard of it, yes,” said Willow.

“Then you should know we've turned over nearly every possible stone trying to find them. We've scoured the Pawpads' property, gone through all their records, questioned everyone remotely connected—we're absolutely at a loss, and frankly it's embarrassing.”

“I'm sure someone will come up with something.”

“I'm not so sure. I think there's one team in the Guild who can find them, and that's you. I want you to take the case.”

“Thanks, but this is an A-tier job. Team Brushcut may have been an A-tier team, but Team Olivebranch is currently C-tier, and my standing in the Guild wasn't stellar even before.”

“This isn't about your rank or your standing in the Guild. I know you're not feeling confident, and you're keeping to easier jobs partly for the boy's sake. But these highwaymen and bandits you've been hunting are beneath the both of you. I think it's time you broke out of your rut and brought us the elusive prey.”

Willow glanced over to me before giving her answer.

“You certainly know how to sell a case,” she said. “All right. If it pleases you, Olive and I will bring you the Pawpad brothers.”

We dumped the bodies and headed back to the city. Willow permitted us to get some decent food and rest at a local tavern, but that evening we hit the Guild's record office at headquarters. Willow found the files quickly and laid them on the table for examination.

“Here are their immigration forms. Gem, raichu, and Jewel, raichu. Dates of birth uncertain, dates of citizenship roughly five years ago—before that, they were wild. Seems among their possessions on arrival was a large amount of money, which they explained as having come from commissions as mineral prospectors.”

“Who was it who commissioned them?”

“It doesn't say. It's not uncommon for companies to pay wild people for various services, and since a lot of those wilds don't even have names, the companies usually report the expense as something like, 'payment for services rendered.' Of course wilds can't be expected to keep their own records, so unfortunately it's impossible to check.”

She shuffled through some more papers.

“The Pawpads used that money to buy their bar from its previous owner, a grovyle named Bark. All that's in the case file—the other teams questioned him pretty thoroughly. He wanted a hundred fifty gold pieces for the place, but when the Pawpads came in offering eighty up front, he decided to take it. Seems he was in some debt and needed to liquidate quickly. All this happened within weeks of the Pawpads' arrival, while they were still in transitional housing—all in all, a pretty slick way to get a foothold.”

“So the story's plausible?”

“It is. There's something bothering me, though.”

“What's that?”

“How many wild raichu and pikachu do you think live in this region?”

I thought about it. “I suppose a few.”

“A few, perhaps, but not many. And while it is conceivable that two wild raichu would enter the city with the small fortune they had amassed as mineral prospectors, knowing what we do about our friends, I suspect the true story is more interesting.”

“How will we find out?”

“There's no way to follow these records any further back, so we'll have to act on a hunch. This particular hunch will take us a bit out of our way, so I ask that you trust me.”

She called in a favor, and the next morning a pidgeot with a basket was waiting for us at the Guildhall. We flew south toward Prosperity, about a three hour journey over the mountains. I had only passed through the city once before. It was breathtakingly huge, filling the land between the three rivers. We landed by the Guildhall, showed our badges, and went to the grand record hall to continue our search.

For hours, Willow laboriously searched the city index and pulled the records of every group of two or more brothers of the species raichu, pikachu or pichu. Finally she seemed to find something that interested her, and she laid it on a table for me to see.

“As usual, tax records tell all,” she said. “Every month, they list each citizen's business-related expenses subtracted from their income. Most of these fellows have incomes and expenses recorded to the present, but for these two—Thistle and Thorn—it all comes to a halt on this date just over five years ago.”

She went back to the cabinet and pulled out more papers.

“Here are their birth certificates, showing them as being born to a pikachu named Lily. I pulled her records as well—tax records show income from a brewing business, which also at one time employed her sons.”

“You think this Thistle and Thorn are our Gem and Jewel?”

“Nothing's certain, of course, but I believe it's a possibility. If we were to have a talk with Lily, she could confirm, if indirectly, whether my hunch is correct. If it is, she may reveal even more we can use, while we've got her talking.”

“So we're going to go ask her about her sons?”

“We are, but we need to consider a strategy. While she may disapprove of her sons' actions, I can't imagine any mother would sign for the death of her children by cooperating with the Guild if she knew we were after them. We need to get her to tell us what she knows, and we need to do it _without_ letting on that we're with the Guild.”

“In other words, we need to put on an act.”

“That's exactly what we need to do.”

Pikachu aren't the largest creatures, and Lily's house looked just a bit too big for her alone. It was one of a dense line of housing stretched up and down a road. With me right behind her, Willow knocked on the door and took a few breaths while we waited for an answer.

The door opened, and the homeowner appeared. “Can I help you?” she said.

“Hello, um … Are you Lily? Thistle's mother?”

“I am Lily, yes. Who are you?”

Willow let out a sigh of desperate relief. “I'm so glad we found you … I—I'm sorry. My name is Willow, and this is my brother, well, half-brother, Olive. I was really hoping you could help us.”

“Help you with what?”

“It's about your son, Thistle. I, um, I wanted to know if you've been in contact with him, or if you've seen him recently or anything.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I'm sorry, it's just … well, I've been seeing him for the last few months, but he seems to have disappeared. He stopped showing up to our usual meeting places, and nobody can tell me where he is or what he's doing. I don't even know where he lives.”

“I haven't been in contact with either of my sons in over five years. The last time we spoke wasn't the most pleasant, so whatever they've been doing, it's their business and I know nothing of it.”

“Listen, I … I'm desperate.” Willow leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice. “I just found out that I'm pregnant. It has to be his. If you can tell me anything, even the smallest thing …”

Lily put her head in both paws. “Stupid, stupid … All right, come inside.”

Lily led us through her home to the kitchen. Her home was packed with brewing equipment—grinders for mashing, large pots for fermenting—all in various states of disarray. In the kitchen, she had an icebox full of bottles, and she pulled one out and offered it to Willow.

Willow tried to refuse, but Lily said, “It's just berry juice. Take it.”

Willow took the bottle and sat at the kitchen table. Lily sat with her, while I stayed standing and idly looked around the kitchen.

“Who's the kid?” Lily said, referring to me.

“Olive, my brother. He's the reason I was able to find you,” said Willow.

“How then? Sniffing and tracking? … All right. You wanna hear about my sons? My sons were disappointments. As kids, they preferred prowling the night with their friends to doing their schoolwork, and despite all my yelling and discipline, they eventually got kicked out of school. I put them to work brewing, and I even trusted them to deal with our suppliers, but I found out they had been taking a little off the top, using my money to entertain friends and such, and that was the last straw. I cut them off completely. Kicked them out of my house and haven't seen them since.”

“You have no idea where they went after they left home?”

“Not a sliver of one.”

“Did you happen to know any of those friends? Anyone I could talk to?”

“No, they were all just … stupid friends.”

“What about business associates? Do you think they might have gone to anyone after …”

“You could try the barley farmers, and I could tell you which ones we dealt with, but I have no idea if any of them associated with my sons after they left. I had a broker, a kecleon named Copper, help set up my supply lines. When my sons started working, I gave them a certain amount of autonomy, and they preferred to work with an ambipom named … Whir or Whisk or something. I didn't know much about him and I didn't like him, but I didn't have _too_ much to complain about—except that I noticed he was spending time with my sons outside work, which I find rather unprofessional at best, criminal if he knew what money it was they were using. I'd say he's the one most likely to have been in recent contact with them. That's all I've got for you.”

“You don't remember his name? Do you know where I could find him?”

“He's an ambipom broker—you should be able to find him through the usual channels.”

“Thank you,” Willow said softly. She left her bottle on the table and stood up. “One last thing. Did you know that Thistle had evolved into a raichu?”

“No,” said Lily.

We walked down the road until we were out of earshot, then I said, “Did we get anything we can use?”

“She confirmed that her sons left home about five years ago, and that they had stolen an amount of money from her business over the years. That ambipom broker she mentioned … There's one in Sandstone by the name of Whirl. It's still not solid, but I think we could learn something interesting by talking to him next.”

“Even if he had something to do with this, how are we going to make him talk without evidence?”

“We'll find a way.”

We met up with our pidgeot and returned to Sandstone. The next morning, we paid a visit to Whirl's brokering office, a tiny stone building crammed on the corner of a street. He heard us come in, but kept his attention on whatever task was on his desk. When he saw our bands, he kept his composure, but his face betrayed a bit of discomfort.

“Good morning,” said Willow.

“Good morning,” Whirl repeated.

“Pardon our intrusion. The Guild is conducting an investigation regarding the criminals known as the Pawpad brothers, and we were wondering if you could help us.”

“I'm certain I've no idea what you mean.”

“Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?”

He looked back and forth between the two of us.

“Certainly not, although I don't know what you expect to hear from me.”

Willow remained standing and let the silence lay thick.

“You operate your brokering business simultaneously in Sandstone and Prosperity, correct?”

“I thought this was about the Pawpad brothers.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, although I don't see how it matters. It's my prerogative to run a multi-regional business, is it not?”

“In Prosperity, did you deal with two raichu or pikachu named Thistle and Thorn?”

I could smell a bit of fear on him. “I may have. I have many clients in the capitol.”

“Your records show you as having dealt with Thistle and Thorn while they were employed by their mother, Lily. They reportedly entertained friends with their mother's money, including, some eyewitnesses say, you yourself. But Thistle and Thorn disappeared just over five years ago, about the same time our friends Gem and Jewel arrived in Sandstone, and within a few weeks of their arrival they managed to snag a bar for just over half the asking price.”

Whirl said nothing.

“Could it be,” Willow continued, “that you helped Thistle and Thorn disappear with a large amount of money which you knew to be stolen, then set them up in Sandstone with a nice business, only to help them disappear a second time when things went south?”

“What makes you think, just because some pikachu in Prosperity stop paying their taxes, that I have anything to do with it?” Whirl said through clenched teeth. “Your accusations are entirely baseless, so I would appreciate if you would—”

Willow waved a paw, and a gust of wind blew Whirl's desk onto its side. Papers flew everywhere.

“If another team had come for you, they may have skipped the foreplay and taken you to have this conversation in a holding cell. Lucky for you, my partner and I are more interested in the bounty on the Pawpads, so if you help us get what we want, we may be grateful enough not to take you in.”

“Take me in—big talk! All you're doing is bullying a hard-working man. What right have you to come in here and—”

Willow grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him to the floor. He tumbled over a few times before coming to rest on his back. His nose bled.

“You bloodthirsty savages!” he spat. “You Guild thugs are worse than the gangsters …”

She stomped him hard on the solar plexus. His talk gave in to retching and crying.

“Let's get something straight,” said Willow. “I could have you tried and executed for looking at me funny. Tell me something that gets me closer to the Pawpad brothers—it's your only chance to save your life.”

Whirl spoke through sobs on the floor.

“Windrun,” he said. “I held some of the Pawpads' money for safe keeping, and they came and got it when things went bad. I set them up with a place in Windrun, told them to stay out of sight, and make their way northeast into the desert.”

“What place?”

“There's a tenement house with a landlord who doesn't ask questions.” He gave the address.

“Do you know how long they intend to stay?”

“No. I've told you everything I know. Whatever they do now is of their own volition.”

“Very well. Mr. Whirl, we thank you for your time.” She nodded politely.


	3. Chapter 3

Windrun was a small town north of Sandstone, across the river and along the edge of the lake. We started before the sun came up, rested in the cart during the hottest hours, and arrived in the evening. We rented a room at the inn, left the cart, followed Whirl's address to the tenement building and made our way to the indicated room. Willow first put her ear to the door—she didn't hear anything. She knocked. There was no answer.

“Maybe they're out,” I said.

We bought a ladder at a general store on the other side of town, brought it back, and propped it against a flat-roofed building across the street and a few blocks down from the tenement. We climbed to the top and pulled the ladder up with us. Lying on our bellies, we couldn't be seen, but we could see anyone going into or out of the tenement. We watched, and waited. That night, we slept in shifts to keep one pair of eyes on the tenement at all times. We continued watching until the following evening. No raichu entered or exited the building, so we climbed down, left the ladder, went to the door, listened, and knocked once more.

Willow stood back and pushed the door with a telekinetic force that broke it off its hinges. The room was completely empty—nothing but bare furniture, no clothes or belongings or anything in the closets or on the floor.

“Sniff,” said Willow.

I did, but the room had been recently cleaned and washed. I searched for some corner they might have missed, but I wasn't able to find a trace of the Pawpads' scent.

“It's no good,” I said.

We looked outside and noticed some people poking their heads out their doorways, attracted by the noise. I signaled to Willow that we should leave. She agreed.

After the exhausting twenty-four hour stakeout and the dead end, I convinced Willow to let us go to the tavern for some relaxation. We sat at the bar tended by an audino and ordered two beers as well as some food. When we finished, we ordered a second round, and even Willow began to get a little bit tipsy. After a couple hours it was completely dark, and I started to get tired of the stuffy tavern air. I told Willow I was heading outside, then I sat on the street corner enjoying the chill.

I noticed a ratatta, a little inebriated himself, further down the street. He stumbled behind the tavern building, and I followed him at a little distance. On the back of the building was a door, and though the ratatta knocked and tried to turn the handle, the door was locked, and there was no answer. He gave up and walked away without noticing me, and I approached the door and examined it myself. His wasn't the only scent around; there were many, suggesting a lot of activity going through whatever was behind here.

I went back inside and told Willow that we should get going. She chuckled, realizing how much she had allowed herself to indulge, thanked the audino, paid, and left. I led her around the back, showed her the door, and explained what I had seen.

“What do you think's back there?” she said.

“I don't know, but it's pretty popular.”

She thought for a moment. “The Guild busted the Pawpads' gambling den at around 3 a.m. Places like these must operate after normal businesses are closed.”

“Why don't we come back later and see what we find?”

“That's a good idea.”

We returned to the inn, and I allowed Willow to rest her eyes while I stayed up to make sure we didn't oversleep. After a few hours, I nudged her awake, and we returned to the tavern and tried the back door. This time, it opened.

Down a narrow flight of stairs was a room like a bar beneath a bar. Here there were more than drinks on the tables, as players sat around piles of coins, which changed paws on the results of dice rolls. Behind the counter were chests which must have stored the house's money.

Willow sat down at a table and placed a bet of five bronze pieces that the next roll would show a ten. Wouldn't you know it? She won.

We continued playing and ordered a few drinks. Over time we got comfortable with the community, so Willow turned to a drunk numel beside her and said, “Are you guys all regulars here?”

“What?” he said. “A lot of us are, but there are a lot of first-time travelers in here as well.”

“I bet you like playing the rookies. Chance to take a bit of their money.”

“Are you kidding? I always leave this place flat broke.”

“Do you now?”

“Yeah, whenever I get fifty bronze pieces I come blow it here. Wife hates it—but one of these days, I'll come home with a big bag of money, and then she'll know it was all for the best.”

“Speaking of travelers, you wouldn't have happened to see raichu pass through recently, would you?”

“Raichu? I dunno, I kinda remember seeing some a few nights back.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“Why you asking? I dunno. They came and they left.”

We continued playing until about five, when the sun came up, the place closed down, and drunk, broke gamblers spilled onto the street. We returned to the inn thirty bronze pieces poorer than when we had started. Willow got something out of the cart on the way inside.

In our room, she unfurled a map of the region on the floor.

“They've most likely been here,” she said, “but by now they've moved on. Don't know how long ago.” She pointed with her finger on the map. “Whirl said they were headed northeast, away from the water. Seeing as he was honest about Windrun, and it's unlikely they doubled back to Sandstone, I think we can safely act on his information. We'll have to go from town to town, looking for establishments like this one and learning what we can. If the Pawpads had recently been in that gambling den, do you think you could have smelled it?”

“I don't know,” I said. “The scent won't blow away like it will in the open, but it'll get mixed and covered up by all the other people until it's undetectable.”

“We'll just have to keep trying. Once we get close enough to the Pawpads to pick up a scent, we'll know we've got them. In each town, we can mark whether the locals tell us they've seen them or not, and from that we might be able to extrapolate their path and catch up to them.”

“Sounds like a tedious, brute-force strategy.”

“It's the best we've got. You fancy a tour of the country, don't you?”

So we went. We left the relative pleasantness of the lakeside and traveled to the desert settlements, which sprang up wherever groundwater could be found. At every town, we went to the local bar or tavern, then poked around the streets at night, looking for people going in and out of unusual places. Boy, did we find them—a string of illegal clubs stretched all across the region. They came in many forms: dice rollers played a few popular games as well as many local variants; some places had dancing women, ninetales and lopunny and the like, to keep people around; one had an underground race track, where some people ran and others made bets on the outcomes. All of this went on with impunity because Guild presence was sparse the further we went. Many of these communities lacked a Guild station.

Whenever a local mentioned anything about seeing raichu, Willow marked the spot on our map. She used that to draw a trail of the path they'd taken and guess their next stop. It was on our way to one of these stops that I caught their scent. I told Willow, and we immediately changed course to follow it. Some ninety miles away from Sandstone, the Pawpads' scent trail led us to a town that wasn't even on our map, a mining community judging by the enormous quarries. The largest building was the home of the person who must have been the boss, and the smaller homes and businesses seemed to have grown around it.

We started with the bar as usual, this one tended by a lucario. We sat down, ordered our drinks, drank, watched, and listened.

What I noticed right away was that this was the most roughneck bar I'd ever seen. Roughly a third of the patrons had slashes on their faces and limbs, burns, scars, missing fur, and various other injuries. Some of them walked with a limp. After about an hour, a houndour came in and sat in the seat right next to me. I looked over and noticed that he was missing his right eye. Claw marks across his face and body had roughly healed over, but the eye was well and totally destroyed. He didn't seem to pay me any mind, but seeing another of my own kind got me a bit excited, and I couldn't help but speak to him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said back.

“Are you, uh … How are you doing?”

“Not too good, not too bad,” he said. The bartender served him a beer without being ordered. I let him drink for a few moments.

“How long have you lived here?” I said.

“Moved from the city about two years ago.”

“How long were you in the city before that?”

“My whole life.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?”

I gave him another couple minutes to drink in peace.

“I'm sorry, you must get this a lot,” I restarted, “but can I ask how you got that?”

“Sandshrew did it. I didn't see him in the sand and stepped on him by accident.”

“He messed you up good.”

“He was a tough little guy.”

“Why were you out in the desert?”

“Are you gonna pester me all night?”

I left him alone. It would be a plausible enough explanation for _one_ messed up eye …

But _all_ of them?

He finished his beer and left without another word. I turned to Willow and said, “I've got a plan. But you're going to have to trust me.”

We followed him and caught up to him in the street. I called, “Hey!”

He stopped and turned around to face us.

“I didn't catch your name,” I said.

“Charcoal,” he said.

“My name's Olive, and this is Willow.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Are you in a hurry to get anywhere?”

“Nowhere in particular.”

“I wanted to tell you something. My parents grew up in some of the poorer parts of Eastgate. My dad had trouble coping, and he often took it out on my mom, you know, hit her, scratched her … Mostly the marks were underneath her fur, but one day he got in a rage and put a flamethrower right in her face. Messed up the left side of it pretty bad, and left a scar that no one could fail to notice. Whenever anyone asked about it, she always had the same story: she was cooking dinner when she slipped on some piece of trash and fell on the burner. I honestly don't know why she lied for him … It could have been out of fear, but it also could have been some twisted love, loyalty no matter what. I got out, but as far as I know, she's still there, still telling people she fell on the stove.”

Charcoal made no reaction.

“I know your sandshrew story is bullshit. And I want you to know, if there are people in this town who are … hurting others, maybe scaring them into keeping quiet, Willow and I can protect you. We're Sandstone Guild agents. We're on the trail of a pair of criminals, Gem and Jewel, brothers, raichu. They operated an illegal gambling den in Sandstone, and they fought their way through three Guild agents when they were discovered. We tracked them from Windrun all the way here, and in many towns along the way, we found other gambling dens like theirs. We know they're here, or they were very recently, and if they're involved in some operation, perhaps the same one that took your eye, then we want to get them, and we want you to help us do it. You do that, and you'll be granted the Guild's protection, and forgiven for any involvement in illegal activities. What do you say?”

Charcoal was quiet for a long time. His stone face told me nothing of what he was thinking.

“I can show you some things,” he said.

“What can you show us?”

“There's an operation going on here, but it's members only—they don't let people in off the street like those dice-throwing joints you encountered. The only way to get in is if a member invites you. I'll do it, but be sure to brace yourselves.”

“The Guild thanks you, Charcoal,” I said, trying to sound official.

“Head back to the bar tomorrow at around midnight.”

The next night, we sat in the same seats and ordered two beers. A person came and sat next to me, but it wasn't Charcoal, it was a poochyena. She ordered a drink of her own, drank it, and without looking at us, said, “Behind the grocer.”

We waited a few minutes before we left. There was only one grocer in town, and behind it was a narrow alley. Charcoal was sitting there. He felt around the boards behind a bush and removed a couple of loose ones, revealing a narrow hole descending into darkness.

There was a short drop onto level ground, then Charcoal led the way through a pitch-dark tunnel, we following by the sound of his footsteps.

The tunnel went just long enough to make me nervous, but it opened up into a large chamber lit by lanterns all around. There were chairs and tables, all arranged on graduated circular levels made of stone, with a fully-stocked bar as well as a betting counter with chests behind it. At the center was a pit, roughly five feet deep, twenty feet in diameter with a packed dirt floor.

We ordered some drinks and sat down at a table. Charcoal said, “Hang back and enjoy yourself. There'll be some entertainment soon.”

Two people, a machoke and a graveler, climbed into the pit. A crowd formed around them and cheered. The two took up positions at opposite ends, waited, and at the same time, bounded toward each other. They were fighting. The graveler was the first to land a hit, and followed it up with a volley of punches with his four solid arms. The machoke took the hits and fell back, but he picked himself up and returned his own volley. The two took it in turns to smack each other up in this way, such that it seemed the victor would be whoever withstood the other's blows longest. That turned out to be the machoke, whose every punch put new cracks in the graveler's body. After a nasty attack, the graveler hit the ground and didn't get back up.

The crowd cheered louder.

A chimecho came along and gave the graveler a healing pulse, which sealed up some, but not all of the cracks in his body. He got up and shambled out of the pit.

The machoke stayed in, ready for his next opponent.

“It's pretty simple,” said Charcoal. “Anyone who likes to can sign up to fight, but they've got a few regulars, tough guys who are popular in the ring. The fighters go on a list in the order they sign up, the first two on the list fight, then the winner fights the next one on the list, and so on. It gets the crowd excited when one guy wins a lot of fights in a row, and when there's no one willing to challenge the standing champion, that guy is the night's winner.”

“And people bet on the outcomes of the fights?”

“That's right. Before each fight, there's a chance to put your money on the fighter you think'll win. The amount you win is based on the odds, and the odds are based on who appears to be the strongest fighter or who's won a bunch in the past.”

I took a look around. At the head of the club I noticed a section apparently set apart from the rest. Four people sat at a table, watching the fights with obvious enjoyment. Two of them were an empoleon and a prinplup, and sitting next to them were a pair of raichu.

I prodded Willow to let her know.

“What can you tell us about the men over there?” she said to Charcoal.

“Is that who you're looking for?” said Charcoal.

“Could be.”

“Well, the empoleon is Snow. The big house you must have seen outside is his. He bought up all the land around here some years ago and set up a quarrying business, but profits were meager until one day they ran into diamonds, which made Snow rich overnight. People flocked to the spot, and a little town formed around Snow's estate. The kid is Snow's brother, Silt. The raichu are new. I don't know much about them.”

“I suppose Snow keeps this place running with his enormous wealth?”

“I guess. I have no idea if this place is profitable. Snow takes on all the overhead and payout to the winners, but he also gets the money that people lose or spend on drinks.”

“Why would he go to the trouble to run this place at a loss?”

Charcoal shrugged.

Willow looked back at the other table. “Are the two raichu often with Snow?”

“In here they are. Snow treats them like old friends for some reason. I heard he's putting them up at his house.”

Willow looked at me. “I think we've seen enough for now. Shall we go?”

“No,” said Charcoal. “I invited you here. It would look suspicious if we left without watching a few fights. You don't have to bet on them, but you should at least look like you enjoy a little action.”

We sipped our cups and watched. The machoke dominated the night, crushing every opponent he went up against until he stood as the ultimate victor. The crowd roared. When the excitement was over, they slowly dissipated into small groups.

By then it was nearly five. We left the way we came, and talked in the space before the hole that led to the outside world.

“I suggest you lie low for a while,” said Willow. “Olive and I need to discuss our next steps. We'll find you when we're ready.”

He took it without argument. He climbed first out of the hole, we climbed second, and we went our separate ways.


	4. Chapter 4

Willow sat at the desk in our room and started scribbling some numbers on a scrap of paper. I couldn't understand what she was writing, so I paced the room and wracked my brains a bit before I spoke up.

“I suppose busting them in the den is out of the question,” I said.

“Absolutely,” said Willow. “If we started any trouble there, they would block the entrances, and we would stand no chance of escaping.”

“Why don't we go for backup?” I said. “This is much bigger than we were prepared for. We found the Pawpads, now let's report to the Guild, get more teams, and tear that place apart.”

“The nearest Guild station is several days and several dozen miles back the way we came, and even they don't have enough teams to be able to spare. The time will come to break that place up, but it'll take a concerted effort from Sandstone itself. In the meantime, we need to remove the criminals we came for and get out of here.”

“Then what? We sneak into Snow's house and kill them while they sleep? Not like we don't know where it is.”

She shook her head. “We don't know the layout or the number of guards, and with our targets' nighttime activities, we don't even know when they'd be sleeping. I might have a suggestion, though.”

I waited for her to go on, but she trailed off and looked at her paper.

“I don't understand gambling,” she began. “People give their money, earned through honest labor, to robbers and swindlers for nothing in return. That in itself is rotten, but there's something else that's strange. Gambling entices people with the possibility of winning big. These games are based on chance, so in the long run people should win about as much as they lose. Establishments should be as likely to win or lose money as the players are, yet all the places we've come across have been making profits. Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged.

“It's because they stack the odds in their favor in various ways. Take the most popular game we encountered. The caster calls a number, and players bet whether the caster's number of the house's number will come up first. Most places simply pay the winners an amount equal to their stake, but actually, all numbers are not equally likely to show when rolling two six-sided dice. If we take each die as an independent event, as we should, there are thirty six possible outcomes: six outcomes will show a seven as the result, but only five will show a six or an eight, four will show a five or a nine, and so on. So a dice roll has a one in six chance of showing a seven, but only a one in thirty six chance of showing a two or a twelve. Many places realize this and make seven the house number by default. Do you see?”

I nodded.

“Some places do adjust the odds to make things more interesting, yet the odds they pay almost never match up with the true probability of the winning outcome. For instance, if the house number is seven and the caster's number is four, the house number is twice as likely to show, so those who bet with the caster should make twice their stake if they win. Most places only pay back the stake times one and a half or one and three quarters. To complicate things further, many places have the caster's number not called by the caster, but determined by an initial roll, and they have certain outcomes of the initial roll result in an instant win or loss for the betters. To complicate things _further_ , this is all assuming the dice are perfectly fair, and in most cases they aren't. I'd be willing to bet that the rules for each place's variation of the game are based on the most likely outcomes of the dice they happen to be using.”

“They're cheating people,” I said.

“Perhaps. What they've done is given themselves a slight statistical advantage over the public, such that while some people may win big in the short term, the house always profits in the long term.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“These places aren't interested in providing a fair and balanced game for the people's enjoyment. They're interested in making money. So how do you think they'd react if someone were to come along, win a dozen dice rolls in a row, then leave?”

I said nothing.

“If that person started with just ten bronze pieces, then bet the winnings of each roll on the subsequent roll, they could stand to win as much as forty gold pieces at the end of twelve rolls. That's a lot of money for anyone to pay out. The house could chalk it up to that person's good luck, and let their long-term profits cover it. But I think they'd rather do something to keep that money from getting away.”

“Like what?”

“I'll tell you what I would do in their position. Treat my winner to some fine food and a good show, then put them up at the nicest available lodging, perhaps with some companionship of the opposite sex. All the while encourage them to come back and bet more tomorrow. As long as they stayed in town, they would eventually pay me my money back, one bet, one beer at a time.”

“What do you propose we do, then?”

“We bet on the fights. I have an idea to ensure our success.”

“What is it?”

“You enter the fights.”

“No.”

“Please, hear me out—”

“No! Did you not see those muscle-bound bruisers back there? Do you want me to get my head ripped off and my spine snapped?”

“Don't be like that. Together we've taken down bounties much tougher than that machoke who won the night tonight. They may fight for a living, but so do you, and I'm confident your Guild experience makes you stronger than these small-town strongmen.”

“You're the better fighter between us. Why don't _you_ enter the fights?

“Because we're not just winning bets here, we're telling a story. The story is that I'm an old lady looking for exciting things to do with my money, and you're the muscle I hired for my protection. That keeps our cover while allowing me to continue to appear harmless, so that when it comes time to strike, I'll be able to get the drop on our enemies.”

I felt sick to my stomach, but there was nothing I could say. It really did look like the best plan available.

“The best time to get them will be while they sleep, whenever that is,” she went on. “That means we need to keep our heads in their presence for as long as it takes. Be ready to attack if things go poorly, and not a moment sooner.”

We did our best to sleep through the day, then arrived early to get a spot in the first fight. Climbing into the pit felt like crawling into the belly of a giant charizard, and when the crowd saw me, they were equal parts incredulous and excited. I searched for Willow's face in the crowd, for comfort. She was sitting at a table further away. She didn't look at me.

The other combatant entered the pit. He was a rhyhorn, standing several feet over me. His footsteps were unsettlingly loud.

We went to opposite sides, and in a moment, the fight began. The rhyhorn didn't waste a second in charging me down. I ran as far as I could to meet him in the middle, then sidestepped to send him charging past me. He came to a halt, flipped around, and set about trying to crush me with his heavy feet. He hit me in the face and I reeled back. He ran after me, and I retreated, blasting fire to slow him down as much as I could. My short bursts only deflected off his stone hide.

The rhyhorn raised his right foot high in the air, and instead of jumping back, I jumped toward him and fired into the underside of his chest. He roared in pain, but quickly swung his horn around and swatted me. I hit the dirt and picked myself up as quick as I could, hacking.

When he charged again, I exhaled smog a moment before I dodged. He ran straight through the cloud, and when he came to a stop, I could see him coughing and wobbling. He charged again, and I put more smog in his face. His charges became less quick, less powerful, and when he swung around I could see his eyes taking a moment to come to focus. While he was disoriented, I ran toward him and jumped up his face onto his back. I poured fire into the back of his neck. He thrashed, and I crouched low and gripped tightly with my claws to keep my footing.

His thrashing grew weaker and weaker until he collapsed. I jumped down.

Now there was much less noise from the crowd.

The chimecho floated by and gave the rhyhorn a healing pulse, and he tottered to his feet and climbed out of the pit. I almost envied him.

Five more opponents signed up to fight, each certain he could be the one to finish me off. I went through all of them, until finally I stood alone in the pit. The crowd murmured to each other, saying things like, surely _someone_ else will enter, they won't let a tiny puppy win it all …

After some time it was clear there were no more challengers, and I was allowed to leave. Willow came and extended a paw to help me up. The exhaustion caught up to me and I nearly fell over, but she grabbed me around the back and let me lean into her for support. The ten bronze pieces she started with had turned into eighty gold pieces.

We sat down at our table and waited to see what happened next. Sure enough, Snow left his comfortable spot and approached us, along with his brother and their raichu friends.

“Good evening,” he said. “You fought well today. Please, allow me to refill your cups and join you for a bit.”

“Certainly,” said Willow.

He sent Gem to the bar while he and the others sat down with us. Gem returned with two pitchers of beer, and we all filled up.

“I don't think I've seen you before,” Snow said, “so let me introduce myself. My name is Snow, and I own all of this. The cute thing here is my brother, Silt, and the others are two close friends of ours, Gem and Jewel.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Willow.

Silt nodded. Gem and Jewel watched and made no moves.

“I built this place,” Snow continued, “because I enjoy watching some good fights. You gave me some very good fights this evening, so I'd like to learn a little about you, where you're from, and perhaps where you're going.”

“What can I say?” said Willow. “My name is Willow, and this is Olive. I made a good amount of money in the mining business, but now that I'm older I've grown bored, and I like to travel to small towns like this one, looking for games, a bit of fun. Olive is my muscle—some of the dice dens we frequent can get a bit hectic. When we found this place, we'd never seen anything like it. I decided to put Olive in to see how he stacked up against the locals.”

“Pretty well, it turns out,” said Snow.

“Do you like it?” said Silt.

We were all confused for a moment before we realized he was talking to me. I said, “What?”

“Fighting people. Getting beat up. Feeling them go limp under your fire. Do you like it?”

Everyone waited for my answer. I glanced around at Willow and Snow before I settled on, “It's my job.”

“That's not what I—”

“Silt's been taking an interest in the family business,” Snow interrupted. “I wanted to ask you, though, where you were thinking of traveling next.”

“I'm not sure. We've been on quite a long trip already—we'd never been this far north before. We might return to the city.”

“I'll be sad to see you go. It would be remiss of me not to offer you at least a good meal, as congratulations. This place will be closing within the next half hour—everyone needs to be gone before daybreak, to avoid suspicion from non-members—but we can return to my home and have, well, I suppose it would be breakfast.”

“That would be splendid.”

“Thank you. I'll show you the quickest tunnel.”

The tunnel was the one nearest to Snow's private section. It surfaced into the floor of a shed within the grounds of his home.

We came in the front door, where a sableye servant met us. Snow informed him that he had brought some guests, that they should get started on our meal right away, and also that we were going to the baths—I especially needed it. Servants took us each to separate rooms. Mine was a kirlia, who put me in a small tub, dumped water on my head, and scrubbed the dirt and blood out of my fur. Some of it was packed pretty deep, and my cuts stung to the soapy water. When that was done, they lead us to the dining room, where we gathered around the table for a meal of potatoes, spinach and cheese. Snow was the first to break the silence.

“You said he was your muscle,” he said to Willow. “Is he hired help, or …”

“We're good friends, but I do pay him well,” said Willow.

“Where'd you learn to fight, son?”

Willow stayed quiet and let me answer.

“I was part of a gang in the city,” I said. “Willow found me and decided to give me a chance to make something of myself.”

“So you left fighting in the streets only to fight as a private bodyguard. Then you wound up fighting in my pit.”

“I can't complain. I'm getting paid now, and Willow doesn't get in trouble as often as you'd think.”

“Can't argue with that,” Snow said with a chuckle. “You said you were headed back to the city?”

“That's right,” said Willow. “As fun as our adventure's been, we do like to return home now and then.”

“It really has been fun, hasn't it? And the way I see it, what you did today in the pit could be just the beginning. Why don't you stay for a while, keep fighting, and make yourselves even more money? I'd even let you stay in one of my nicest rooms, as an act of respect for one of the most talented athletes I've met.”

Willow seemed to turn the words over in her head. “Your offer is quite generous,” she said.

“It's all your decision, of course,” he said. “If you do leave, at least stay until you're good and rested.”

The sableye reentered the room and said something to Snow. Snow turned to us and said, “I'll just be out of the room for a moment. The duties of a businessman never cease.”

They left, and the remainder of us sat in stifling silence. The Pawpads just sat and watched us while Silt eagerly finished up the last of his food. Willow remained seated, so I did the same.

Snow finally returned, saying, “My apologies.”

“There was nothing too urgent, I hope,” said Willow.

“Just routine management. Silt, why don't you go on upstairs? I'll be with you soon.”

Silt left his dirty plate and exited the room, while Snow returned to his seat.

“He's a sweet kid,” he said. “I asked for your stories, but I never told you ours, did I?”

“You did not,” said Willow.

Snow smiled. “Silt and I are from the north, where it's always snowy and the terrain is rough. The Guild still hasn't gotten that far, have they? We were part of a wild colony, and there was another colony nearby that we were always at war with. We did raids, and quite often all the men would meet up together in a field or something and bash it out. It wasn't about food—there was enough fish and land for all of us—and we weren't trying to conquer each other, since once we were good and beat up we would all just return to our own camps. What those fights did was let us reaffirm that we were not to be messed with, not only to each other, but to ourselves. In an odd way, it strengthened our sense of group identity—it's only when there's a _them_ that you feel a strong sense of _us_.

“That's how we saw it, anyway, but the missionaries who visited us occasionally saw it differently. They were constantly urging us to leave our violent lifestyles and join their peaceful, unified society—and they continuously reminded us that just to the south, in the desert region of Sandstone, was a lot of cheap land and mineral wealth for the taking. I didn't listen at first, but when both our parents died soon after Silt hatched, I decided to take up their offer. I worked my tail off in the city, saved up a little money, and bought the plot of land you're now sitting on. There really was cheap land and mineral wealth for the taking.”

He paused for a bit.

“The Guild wouldn't approve of what I've built. They want a peaceful world where nobody fights, and everyone eats plants and trades metal coins. I say peaceful, but I should really say pacified. They employ fighters of their own to enforce the peace—in essence, they've given themselves a monopoly on violence. But I've seen the good that fighting does for a person's heart, and I know that just because you take a person and put him in tenement housing in a city of stone doesn't mean that desire to fight goes away. Why does the Guild think houndour have sharp teeth and claws? Why do rhyhorn have hard stone bodies? Why can raichu shoot lightning?

“It's because we're still those same creatures that lived in bands and fought, killed and ate each other. The Guild hopes to transform us into peaceful city-dwellers, but they can no more do that than they can transform lead into gold. My establishment provides the disenfranchised with an opportunity to make a living while satisfying the deeply-held instincts we all share. I merely give a home to what the Guild fails to destroy.”

He picked up his cup and took a long drink.

“So you'll understand why, when the Guild comes snooping around my land, I'll do all I can to protect it.”

The realization hit Willow in an instant, and she, Gem and Jewel all sprang from their seats at once. There was a loud noise, and a flash so bright it nearly blinded me.

When it was over, Willow fell to the floor, motionless.

I vaulted over the table just quickly enough to avoid an attack from Jewel, and the table crashed onto its side along with me. I crouched behind the wood, clasping my eyes and ears shut from the electric attacks that were still flying in my direction. After a moment it stopped, and I heard footsteps moving around the other side. I sat still and made no noise.

“We know you're back there,” I heard Snow's voice call out, “and we're not terribly interested in coming around to catch a fire blast in the face. Come out slowly.”

I stayed where I was.

“Your partner is still alive,” Snow said. “We could change that at any time with a good bit of lightning, but if you do as we say—”

I jumped onto the edge of the table and fired in their direction. The blast hit Snow dead-on; his flesh was charred, and he fell to the floor, crying and choking on the hydro pump he'd been keeping at the ready. I darted sideways and fired again toward Gem, but he avoided it, and Jewel tackled and pinned me. He sent a sustained bolt straight into the floor through my body. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was Willow lying just a few yards away from me.

\---

Three figures slowly came into focus. One was the lucario bartender, and I could just perceive the sound of a conversation with a weavile and poochyena, the one who had directed Willow and I to the grocer. Next I saw the room I was in: I lay on a cold stone floor, with crates stacked up against the walls. Some of the crates were open and showed bottles inside, and there were more bottles sitting on top of them.

I tried to get up, but with a metallic jingle I was jerked back to the floor. A chain was wrapped around my neck and bolted to the wall, and a metal sheet crudely shaped into a mask was bound to my face with chains around my head. The three stopped talking as they heard me, and the poochyena approached.

“Good morning. It's still morning, if you can believe it,” she said. “Snow was suspicious as soon as you won all those fights, so he had us investigate while you were stuffing your faces at his house. That houndour fucker who invited you in is gone, probably skipped town the moment you took your eyes off him, but we found your cart at the inn, and your Guild bands and badges were inside, along with the handbills for Gem and Jewel. I suppose it was a good fit for you—little pup, not good for anything but sniffing and brawling, paid to track down dangerous criminals. But you ventured too far from home this time, and the criminals you found are just a bit too dangerous.”

She reared back and headbutt me in the side. I fell to the ground, gasping for air through the mask. Tears welled in my eyes, and my nose burned.

“We _were_ just going to kill you, maybe after we tortured you for a bit of information. But Snow died of the injuries you gave him, and now Silt wants to make things more interesting.”

She turned away, and the three of them left.

As soon as I was alone, I put my claws to the back of my head, trying to wriggle out of the mask any way I could. It was stuck securely, and I couldn't open my mouth enough to get a good flame. I tried for hours, until more people came into the room. A hitmonlee took the chain off the wall and pulled me through a door to another room, where there was yet another hole leading to a tunnel.

We emerged in the fighting den, and they threw me into the pit amidst a roaring crowd. Silt was standing in the center, and as soon as he saw me, he turned to address the others.

“Everyone!” He held up his flippers in a call for silence. “Last night, we welcomed two new members into our club. One of them proved his ability beyond any doubt, and my brother invited them both to our house for a congratulatory meal. He was tricked—the two were Guild agents, and once they'd had their fill, they attacked and killed him. The Guild, so far away in its stone strongholds, thinks to judge us for the games we enjoy in our own community. Tonight only, everyone who signs up to fight will fight this one—and whoever kills him will win a bounty of eighty gold pieces.”

The crowd was deafening, and the fighters couldn't sign up fast enough. It wasn't long before a golem joined me in the pit.

That golem beat the shit out of me. With the mask still on I couldn't fight back, but by avoiding him as best I could, I managed to stay standing until the audience grew agitated and called for the next fighter. I outlasted all of them until morning drew near, and they were forced to call it off. They put the chain back on me and dragged me out of the pit, and in the storage room, they left me alone again with no food or water.

On the second night, they brought me out for another beating. Again I survived, so they continued to starve me and brought me out a third time. The person to escort me back after the third night was a rhyhorn, the same rhyhorn I'd beaten in my very first fight.

He secured the chain to the wall, and as he turned to leave, I did something I hadn't done in three days. I spoke.

“Hey, buddy” I said.

He pretended he didn't hear me.

“They must be crazy, letting you escort me alone. Did they forget how I whooped your ass before?”

“What are you going to do, blast me?” he said. “You got the better of me that one time, but you're not going to do anything now. You're too weak. You won't last another day out there.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Damn sure.”

“You think you're pretty strong, right?”

“I know I am.”

“Well, strongman, you know why I'm chained up like this?”

“It's because you're a Guild agent who killed Snow.”

“That's right, but did they tell you why the Guild was in this town in the first place? It wasn't to bust your little fight club. We were on the trail of a pair of criminals who assaulted three agents in Sandstone—Gem and Jewel, raichu, the two you always saw hanging around Snow. I really shouldn't tell you that the Guild is willing to pay twenty four gold pieces for each of their corpses. With even a third of that money, you could travel down to Prosperity, or even Land's End if you wanted to. Get yourself a nice place to live, start a business, stop getting beaten up by puppies for the crowd's amusement.”

“What do those gold pieces have to do with me?”

“The Guild's offer still stands, and we're more than willing to reward those who assist us in the line of duty. If you help me out of here, and we get Gem and Jewel, you will earn no less than a third of the bounty, sixteen gold pieces just for you.”

“Why don't I go get Gem and Jewel, and take them to the Guild myself?”

“Because only Guild agents have the authority to use force against criminals. If you bring them in alone, you'll be tried for murder and probably executed. But assisting Guild agents in making an arrest is not against the law—it's how I got into the Guild myself.”

The rhyhorn mulled it over.

“I could … go all the way to Land's End?”

“You could go anywhere you want, strongman.”

He gestured for me to put my head down. I did, and he laid his two massive feet on the back of the mask and pried the chains with his horn. All of them snapped.

“Thanks,” I said.

I fired a blast directly into his face.

He screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his ruined eyes. I turned around quickly to break my chain with another blast, then darted to the doorway as quick as I could. He charged in a rage across the room, smashing crates. I left him amid the sound of splintering wood and breaking bottles.

The sky was just beginning to light up outside. I slipped through the empty bar to the street and made my way unseen to Snow's house at the head of town.

I snuck around Snow's yard and peered in through a window. Gem, Jewel and Silt were still awake, sitting in what looked like a living room, drinking. I found an open window further down and slipped inside. I tread quietly through the hallways and hid just behind their doorway. The first to walk past me was Silt, and I pounced on his back and sank my teeth into his neck. He thrashed and struggled, but as I came loose, bits of his carotid artery came with me. I jumped sideways to avoid an electric attack and fired back with a blast that dropped Gem to the floor.

Jewel ran for it. He ducked into a doorway just in time to avoid another blast aimed for his back, and as I gave chase, he came out of one of the bedrooms, holding Willow like a shield.

Her arms were chained behind her back. She was bruised and burned, and patches of fur were missing.

“Don't take one step closer!” Jewel cried. “You might be a hotshot, but can you hit me without also roasting your partner? I'll send ten thousand volts through this bitch if you move another inch, do you hear me?”

I stood in the middle of the hallway and didn't move.

“You think you're so noble? You think you're forces of justice, fighting evil? You're the ones who came here looking for blood! My brother and I just wanted to play games and make money. We never hurt anyone except to protect ourselves.” He stopped to wipe tears from his eyes. “Here's what's going to happen. Step back five paces and sit. Then lie down. I'm going to walk past you, out that front door, and be on my way. I'll leave the lady in the yard for you to collect, unless you do something stupid and I have to kill her. Do you understand?”

I looked at Willow, then did as I was told. I stepped back, one, two, three, four, five, and sat. Then I lay on my belly.

“Good boy,” said Jewel.

Willow thrust her hips into him and ducked her head down. I hit him with a flamethrower that sent him stumbling back into the bedroom. He slumped against the frame of the bed, and I sustained the flames until he stopped moving. Willow knelt down, and I broke her chains with a smaller flame. She winced as the heat hit her wrists, but bore it. Once they were off, she removed the chain from my neck.

“I'm glad you're all right,” she said.

I didn't respond.

“I think we should leave this town as soon as possible,” she said. “Are you well enough to walk?”

“I am if you are,” I said.

We found the cart locked up in a shed, pulled it out to the front, and hitched the two bodies we'd come for. We started our journey home with the light of the rising sun at our backs.


End file.
